


A First Shadow

by aerlinniel



Series: The Riddler/Scarecrow collection of cliche fanfic AUs [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham Asylum (Video Games), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Cliche, Gen, Humor, M/M, Tropes, or where edward nygma gets turned into a vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2371778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerlinniel/pseuds/aerlinniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting turned into a vampire was so far down Edward's priorities list, it didn't even appear in it. It was unimaginable to think of vampirism as even a possibility for his life, and no wonder. Why would he be interested in having to drink people's blood and taint his suits with hepatitis? Except, this was exactly what had happened, and not even Batman knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A First Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> The reason behind this incredibly cliche fanfic is simple: a friend and I noticed that in the Riddler/Scarecrow fanfic archive there was an amazing lack of classic fanfic trope stories, so I decided to start writing a couple of those myself. The one 'A First Shadow' is based on is one of the most recognisable (and which, to my knowledge, is the first for this pairing). Why Riddler? Scarecrow seemed like a better choice at first, but I imagined he would be far too used to the concept of vampires than Nygma, who (lets face it), would have a crisis about it.
> 
> Namely, a Vampire AU. Not much happens in this one other than Riddler turning into a vampire (depending on the reaction to this fic I might continue it or not). It somehow ended up being an awful lot longer than what I expected, but was otherwise incredibly fun to make. The next cliche AU in this series is a Cat AU, which should come somewhere in the next week. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

                When I found myself waking up, I didn’t remember anything that had happened previously. Nothing. Nada. There was a seeming gaping void, a whole in my memory as to the events that had led me to apparently pass out in a random Gotham alley. Instead there was just a headache, a pounding within my brain that most likely wouldn’t disappear in quite a while. I probably would complain about it loudly if the memory void wasn’t there, or if I wasn’t lying on the floor of an alley god-knows-where. It was dark too. How original.

 

                How the hell had I ended up here? Passed out with a now-dirtied suit?

 

                Had I encountered any significant person yesterday?

 

Was it even ‘yesterday’ anyways?

 

                I groaned and pulled myself up. A tougher job than what it seemed it’d be initially, as I felt weak, faint, hungry too. I closed my eyes as I now sat on the floor, attempting to focus and get a grip. This was strange, and I didn’t like it. I could only seem to remember encountering someone, but aside from that… I opened my eyes then, and looked around. It was night time, ought to be, considering the sheer darkness surrounding me. There was a considerable amount of dirt and trash lying on the floor too, though this was a less surprising thing. Yes, this was normal. Typical. Gotham. This was easy. I just had to get myself out of here before anyone encountered me in this seemingly weakened state.

 

                My considerable intelligence was my pride and joy. My physical strength not so.

 

                Pressing my left hand against the floor, I pulled myself up. I was still dizzy. I groaned at the feeling again, rolling my eyes, and made a move for one of the sides in order to lean against the wall. My suit was ruined already, so there was nothing to do about it now. I could almost feel the germs reeling within the cloth itself already though, disgusting. Unfit for anything, really. I started walking, and almost made it out of said dark alley before I noticed, or rather, heard, three very distinct voices behind me. Males. Probably members of some organisation. Most likely heavily armed.

 

                Some days things just seem to go wrong.  Oh so wrong.

 

                I found myself being abruptly pushed against a wall by one of the three men, knife to my throat as he gurgled something at me about handing all my money ‘or else’. All a very typical ordeal from a dark Gotham alley. I groaned, again, this time mentally, not quite liking the pang of fear that I felt at the back of my throat. They were heavily built, and outnumbered me. I barely ever had the chance to overpower anyone physically, but with people like these…

 

                I replied something in my still persistent headache-induced daze. It didn’t seem to calm or intimidate them at all, as the one holding me simply attempted to punch me, whilst another started a kick directed to my lower stomach area.

 

                Or attempted to, that was.

 

                Wait, what?

 

                Not being that capable physically was at times a huge inconvenience, so, why were the three men suddenly in the floor? I frowned. Was Batman here? Some other rogue which I knew? Looking around, I immediately realised that no, there wasn’t anybody here except me and the three – now unconscious – men. Which were lying on the floor grunting in pain and had blood oozing from some wound, too. Someone else being around here wasn’t even a possibility. I was clearly alone.

 

                That seemed to get me, the red, and after that it only took me around two or three seconds to understand what had just happened. The seeming void in my memory. Why I hadn’t had my face bashed in by some idiots. Why said idiots were lying in obvious pain which had been caused by me. The red colour that…

 

                I raised one of my hands towards my neck, as if to check. And of course, there they were. Two perfectly neat symmetrical holes on a _very_ specific area of my neck. Not entirely closed wounds, but still. I pulled a face, my frown deepening as I realised the impact of this all. Its significance.

 

_‘I’m a vampire.’_

If the red colour seemed to have gotten to me before, this was definitely what got completely through, clearing a bit of the daze away.

 

_‘I am a vampire. I am a vampire. I am a vampire. I turned into a vampire. I turned into a fucking vampire.’_

I felt weak in the knees.

 

 _‘Well, shit,’_ I cursed mentally.

Did that mean I’d have to drink blood from now on?

***

One week later, I was already days into dropping clues, riddles, and hints all around Gotham. As I quickly discovered just four days after starting, the Batman didn't have a single clue. At all. Not a mention or thought about vampirism. It wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be, the outsmarting him that was. It cheered me up slightly, though not enough to quell the disgust over having to feed off random homeless men and women.

 

I can feel the germs in my considerable intellect. I feel sick. Just as sick as I had felt every time I had been forced to do this for the past week, ever since… awakening. And the Batman didn’t have a single clue. Oh boy. It was actually quite disappointing. Almost as disappointing of the prospect of having to feed off the homeless man lying directly in front of me. Almost.

 

I sunk my teeth into the man's neck. The physical strength enhancement was probably the best side effect of my new predicament, but the blood just tasted terrible. Truly terrible. It was probably one of the worst things I had ever had; so much so that even Arkham’s food seemed good by comparison. I rolled my eyes, and whilst resisting the urge to pull my teeth out and stop this, I took my first gulp of blood, causing the blood to trickle down my suit and stain the expensive Versace vest with hepatitis. Even if I didn't already know that blood doesn't come off easily from clothes, I would have burned them anyway just for this. Not just the vest, but everything I was wearing right now. Disgusting.

 

I cursed at this, noticing the hepatitis stain like a sore spot on the corner of my sight, accidentally causing more blood to trickle down – this time all the way down my chin and onto my shirt and tie – and pulled my teeth out of the man's neck. I had barely had any blood at all, though it didn’t matter. I would have to buy another vest one. And suit. Trousers possibly too. Along with a new pair of shoes. Else be caught shining in plain daylight.

 

That was another big one. Apparently, sunlight didn’t directly harm me. Instead, I just shined where it touched my bare skin. Which, considering how dirty my clothes were with blood and how probably I’d burn them before even leaving the street, it most likely would if the sun rose.

 

A fabulous thing. I could only imagine how disappointed someone like Scarecrow would be by this sort of thing. Vampires? Shining? What a wonderful thing!

 

I scowled, and the homeless man took a peaceful deep breath in, unaware of… well, everything. The fact that the alley I was in was as dirty as alleys got in Gotham didn’t help a bit.

 

I was in a general foul mood. My hope was that this was just a result of the general first impression this new life style had left on me; for now, the bad seemed to outweigh the good. By a huge amount too. Physical strength enhancement plus an incredible night vision were great, but the blood was another story. My fears, however, were that this foul mood was just the beginning of some perennial existential angst that would have lead me to writing poetry rhyming words such as doom and gloom. The woods were dark and deep indeed.

 

I shook my head at the thought. No. Anything except turning into some hopeless romantic, or depressingly bored person. Anything before turning into Jonathan Crane. Rhyming ‘doom’ and ‘gloom’? I have better standards than that. Much better standards. How horrible would it be, after all? Nevertheless it was true. That’s what I was thinking right now, at least. I was slowly drifting into the dark corners of the mind.

 

The homeless man was still breathing quite peacefully, unaware of my general presence. Red… the red…

 

_‘Jesus, I still sound like some kind of Goth kid, I need some blood.’_

 

I looked back at the homeless man, and briefly considered testing if blood of other people perhaps tasted better. Maybe alcohol or the food people ate...? I rolled my eyes. No. Might as well just get over this already. Blood tasted terrible anyways, and my suit was already ruined. Even my face was stained now with blood, my appearance was completely ruined. I probably had a considerable portion of my face stained by hepatitis, even. I thought about getting something real to eat. Unfortunately, I had already tried and found out that real food makes me now feel sick for days. Not that that stopped me from craving for cakes.

 

_‘Starbucks mocks me cruelly in the distance. I hate you, mermaid.’_

It was then, amidst thoughts of coffee and mermaids that I blinked. A rare occurrence now, as it wasn't something that felt naturally like doing. Or did at all, now that I thought about it. Had something been thrown onto the floor? Yes, there had to, I had heard a sound. I looked around, but surprisingly, found nothing. Nothing at all.

 

“Lack of blood,” I muttered aloud and to no one in particular. Yes, this was definitely caused by a lack of blood.

 

The moods I got into when I didn’t consume enough blood were terrible. The hyper-awareness of everything that my vampirism induced me with seemed to transform into the total opposite when I was too… hungry. A disgusting side-effect of not drinking enough of the disgusting liquid that I could only consume. Even the thought of blood as proper food made me feel like retching. Really. If only there was a way to avoid this. Perhaps I’d have to start testing if some blood types tasted better than others. With luck some would be less disgusting than others. Or I could test if blood cookies were a thing that actually worked for me.

 

Most likely not though.

 

I went back to thinking, this time about my future, which, apparently, was now endless. Truly endless. Something that I doubtlessly had to rub onto Ra's face the next time we met, before turning into fog or whatever it was that I could do. With my luck, probably I could probably just blind him by shining like a crazy diamond, though the point of immortality would still remain no matter how bright I shone. It’d be like a terrible joke of some kind, though much better if only because of unintentionally beating him in his own quest for immortality without even trying or wanting to. I had quite literally woken up one day as an immortal being. He’d no doubt appreciate that.

 

Ah, vampirism. I could feel my now-sharp canines at all times, brushing my lower lip. So many perks. So, so many. In a manner of ways, at least.

 

I smirked at the thought. That would definitely be something I would have to do, his expression would be priceless. I got close to the homeless man again and sunk my teeth back again into his neck. On the same spot as before too, even. Of course, I'd also have to test exactly what I could do with my new powers. My traps would be better than ever.

 

I started gulping blood down my throat for the second time, the sound of it reaching my ears and seeming as disgusting as the hepatitis staining my previously beautiful vest. Still, nothing could be done, so I just gulped more away. I had to feed, no matter how much I disliked it.

 

 _One… two… three…_ I was still hungry. Curses.

 

A few minutes probably went by like this, with me not caring in the least how much blood I took. I just wanted to satiate my hunger so I could think straight again. Anything except turning into some Goth, Jonathan Crane-like, person. Anything before having to think like that for prolonged periods of time. If drinking blood meant avoiding a Scarecrow-like eternity, then so be it. So be it. Sacrifices had to be made at times.

 

I blinked, suddenly realising, no, _feeling_ that the night would soon end. It was now time for me to go back home. Of course, I would just turn into a _cirque du soleil_ art act the minute sunlight brushed me, though I preferred to avoid that if possible. It was still night time for now, but dawn wasn’t be too far away. I looked up. The sky was clearing. I still had some time, but nevertheless, glitter does not go with a bloody green suit.

 

Nothing really does, though; so it’d be better to go away and feed again next night. After getting new clothes to replace these ones, of course.

 

I pulled my teeth away, taking a moment to look at the two holes left behind on his neck, much like the very two that persisted on my own. They hadn’t closed at all, though in a way remained sealed and in a cured-like state. It was a strange thing, though I had made no move to really cover them. It wasn’t like anyone noticed.

 

I left the homeless man lying on the floor, probably still alive, and turned to the exit of the alley. It was amusing that nobody had realised about 'this' yet. Not Batman, as smart as he had seemed to be, nor anyone else. It was… exciting, but boring as well. I’d have to start planning in depth exploits to use whatever new powers I had, and also test those. If it turned out I could turn into smoke it’d be useful to know, after all. Or maybe I could simply blind people momentarily by shining. Either could be useful. Another smirk found itself onto my face at the thought then. Ah, the traps and tricks I’d be able to set up. The possibilities.

 

I was almost out of the alley when I noticed. There was something in the air. Some... smell. Something which I guessed I hadn’t noticed before. I frowned. Did it have to do with the noise from before?

 

_‘Most definitely.’_

 

It had to. I had fed now, and the smell was certainly there, oh-so-real and oh-so-not-my-imagination. So I turned to face the direction where the passed out homeless man was at, and took a deep breath in. A very big breath, just in case. It didn’t take long to discover what it was. The lack of blood from before had probably stopped me from noticing this. Yes, it probably had been that.

 

Fear gas. Goodie. Just what I needed.

 

Then again I am technically dead and it hasn’t affected me yet, so maybe this is another perk that came with vampirism. Being suddenly immune to Crane’s favourite weapon.

 

_‘Fuck you, Jonathan Crane, you have nothing to do against me.’_

 

I looked around, attempting to spot the man who most definitely had to be there. It smelt like his formula, at any rate. It wasn’t laughing gas, or anything I had previously seen Batman use. So it had to be him. The only question was really ‘why’, it wasn’t like I had been maintaining any type of contact with him as of late. And it wasn’t really like him to do this type of thing so abruptly.

 

“Your presence is as obvious as ever, Crane. What do you want?” I just asked aloud. No reason not to, aside from the daylight to eventually come. He was bound to be here too, he always liked to watch after all, and I couldn’t be bothered to find him even with my night vision.

 

A form moved out of the shadowy distance of the alley – Jesus, did I have enough blood? – and waked towards me. Jonathan Crane, judging by the horrid mask that he seemed to be wearing. Just like I thought.

 

 _‘Who uses that material for clothes anyways?’_ I found myself wondering. Then again, it _was_ Jonathan Crane that this was about. So there shouldn’t be any surprises about that. If I cared more I’d force the man to change his wardrobe. Wearing burlap seriously was amongst the worst possible choices of ‘what to wear’ possible anyways.

               

                “I was merely testing my formula, Nigma,” He explained in a monotone voice. I rolled my eyes. For the first time in… how long? I blinked, and then gave a long stare.

 

                It was dark, though thankfully I could now see more than perfectly at night. Hell, I could see him clear as day. Even distinguish his very particular eye colour. He was wearing his full costume – god knows why exactly – and was just standing there. Must have been observing me for quite some time too. He wasn’t grinning though, but he seemed curious enough about this.

 

                “Quite obviously Jon.” I smirked. What an utterly pointlessly dumb comment. I was wasting my time here. I should be returning to my hideout or drinking some more blood instead of entertaining this stupidity.

 

                “I’m aware of that. The fact is that your… condition raises some questions that I want answered,” he remarked. His voice was stronger than before, louder; a strange contrast, like most things about the man. “Curiosity, you see, Eddie. It isn’t often that one gets this sort of opportunity. So here I am.” He was grinning now, in a way that definitely meant a baby somewhere was crying. Or that a puppy had died. Or both. Probably both. It reminded me of something, though I couldn’t exactly remember what. Nevermind though, it wasn’t important.

 

                His comment had caused me to frown though. My condition? Batman didn’t know, so how could he have realised? This was Jonathan Crane though, so in a sense it didn’t surprise me. The red taint most definitely left by the blood on my chin and then clothes had to be some sort of confirmation. He ought to have noticed those, at least, or more depending on how long he had been observing me.

 

                “My vampirism? I must say I didn’t expect you of all people to follow up on this. You don’t seem like the type,” I smiled with a cruel taint to it. “It should be clear as day considering how many hints I’ve left all around Gotham too.”

 

This much was true. I _had_ left a ridiculous amount of hints leading all up to the fact that I was a vampire. Yet nothing. Absolutely nothing had come from that. Nothing that I was interested in, that was. It had been fun, I had to admit, getting away with it. But today it had been so utterly dreadful to follow up on those. Batman still didn’t have a single clue. Not. Even. One. The books I had so carefully aligned and pages within them I had hinted at had shown him nothing. Neither had the blood loss all of the sudden victims in my traps ‘seemed’ to suffer. Or the mysterious marks on their necks.

 

Scarecrow let out a tired sigh. Wait, had he been talking? I looked at his eyes. Cold blue, like always, and so unlike the reddish colour that had taken the place of my old green.

 

“I did hope I was just hallucinating, to be honest, but my life is a joke. So no wonder someone had to turn into a vampire,” he remarked.

 

 Had he really? I smirked lightly, I would have to check how he had ended up with that conclusion. I had no interest in revealing anything myself. At the very least Crane seemed like the whole vampire idea wasn’t new at all, and was boring instead.

 

 

“And how did you happen to stumble across such a conclusion, Crane? Vampirism is hardly scientific.”

 

There it was, another sigh. I felt mildly amused by the fact that the man had made no efforts to attack me at all. “Well, the toxin obviously has no effect on you. You suddenly are quite capable physically. You shine under the sunlight. Your eyes have turned red. You’re paler than usual. And then there’s the small fact that you drink blood.” He paused. “Unlike Batman’s ‘Riddler is getting physical help’ idea, it is blatantly obvious you are a vampire since roundabout a week ago.”

 

                Wow, the fact definitely didn’t amuse him at all.

 

                “If you ask me, we’ve certainly seen worse and stranger things. In hindsight, that is. Vampirism is hardly an original thing,” he then continued.

 

                I raised a brow at that. Was that how I was going to end up as after a few years of this lifestyle? Some eternally sleep-deprived Jonathan Crane? “You always seemed like the type of person to be into the idea of vampirism. Horror and all.”

 

                “Wannabe crows with self-esteem issues.”

 

                I laughed at that, probably due to the blood I had just recently consumed, and felt the need for a moment to check how the blood on my chin, vest, and tie was. Another wave of disgust went through me as I remembered how it had just trickled down my skin.

 

_‘I need a shower.’_

 

                I opened my mouth to say something, but then it was when it hit me. Scarecrow here knew I was a vampire, not that I particularly cared though. But Batman didn’t. It was clear he had no idea, and probably would continue not knowing at all. That only meant one thing. One very clear, and good, thing. I had defeated Crane on a number of occasions, and if he knew, but Batman didn’t...

 

                An exhilarating feeling took over me. Unlike the frustration at not having anyone realise, it was much better. Much more… filling.

 

                “I won! I finally defeated Batman! I beat him. I have won!” I grinned, being unable to stop myself from shouting the wonderful end result to this whole affair.

 

                Jonathan frowned at that. “He might not have pieced it together, but I did,” he muttered, monotone.

 

                _That_ was the beautiful bit out of all of this, “I won with you other times, it doesn’t matter!”

 

                He sighed again, though didn’t reply, and I felt the need to jump or do something to celebrate. I had won. I had won. Blood be damned, vampirism was definitely now worth it. It was a few minutes until one of us spoke, and by then the sun had already started to rise.

 

                Going unnoticed back to the house I was using be damned. I would have to deal with shining like a diamond all the way back. It’d be frustrating. Sunlight was a pain to deal with. Just like the blood.

 

                Whatever.

 

                I’d have to test my powers now. Perhaps plan something to rub my immortality in Ra’s face in the best way possible. Find in what ways I’d be able to make my traps and tricks even better than they already were.

 

                Yes, I’d do that for now.

 

                “Well, Jon, it has been lovely to see you, but I’m afraid I ought to go now. Sorry about the toxin,” I turned, facing the part of the alley that led into the more normal streets and away from the homeless man that _still_ was unconscious.

 

                He raised his brow, though I just started walking instead of waiting for any actual reply. He’d probably want to continue testing what I was capable of doing now, though I didn’t particularly care. I didn’t care at all, in fact.

 

                Let him be interested. Perhaps it’d be useful to see what now did and didn’t affect me.

 

                Ah, vampirism.

 

                I heard footsteps start behind me once I had just left the alley and turned left. I briefly wondered how Jon’s blood would taste when compared to that of the homeless men I had been feeding off for the past week. I felt my fangs brush against my bottom lip again.

 

                Perhaps it’d be interesting to test that at one point too.


End file.
